Page 17 of Rough & Ruthless

“Fuck me, Stryker, I want to feel you tear my pussy apart.”

“Jesus, baby, love that dirty mouth,” he grunts.

Stryker pulls back and slams home, again and again, hitting me so deep I cry out with each thrust.

“You like that? Like my thick cock stretching out your perfect little pussy?”

“Mmhm…” I moan, pressing back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. I squeeze my pussy each time he pulls out, which I know he likes based on the way he groans and the way his breath hitches in his throat.

“Feels so good, Soraya. Love being inside you. I’ll never get enough. You’re mine, sweet girl. Mine,” he grunts as he picks up speed.

Stryker pushes me closer and closer to the edge, and just when I’m about to fall off into blinding pleasure, he pulls out.

“No!” I yell out in frustration.

He chuckles and leans his huge, hard body over mine. “I’m not done with you yet, beautiful,” he growls.

Stryker walks us backward to one of the wooden chairs lining one side of my shop, and sits down, guiding me onto his lap so my back is facing his front and my legs spread out on either side of his. Slowly, he lowers me down on top of his hard shaft.

"Oh, Stryker, this is…" I have no words. Riding him backward feels so freaking good. As I bounce up and down his long, hard length, I find I like being in control of our pleasure. I reach my hands behind me and tangle them in his hair, urging his head forward so he can kiss my neck.

“Fuck, that’s it. Ride my big dick. Fucking hell, you feel so good.”

I lift up and impale myself on him again and again. Stryker's large hands cup my breasts as he kneads the soft flesh and pinches my nipples. One hand slowly slides down my torso and rests on the mound of soft curls above my pussy. I feel Stryker's finger part my folds and circle my clit, again and again, bringing me right back to the edge of my orgasm.

“Stryker, right there, oh god, I can’t hold on…”

I grind down on him, loving the way his cock fills me up, stretching me and hitting every sensitive spot deep inside of me.

“Let go, love. I’ve got you,” he whispers before biting down on my shoulder.

I throw my head back and grip his hair as my body locks up and tenses, every muscle and nerve pushed to the absolute extreme, waiting for my permission to let go.

Stryker pinches my clit and I scream out my release, my body curling up and pitching forward with the force of my orgasm. Stryker holds me steady with one hand on my breast, the other cupping my pussy as he thrusts into me from below.

“Fuck, fuck, Soraya, Jesus, I’m coming too, baby, fuck!”

I feel like I’m one big ball of nerves that keeps getting electrocuted each time Stryker thrusts in and out of me. We ride our high together, Stryker releasing a wave of cum as he trembles and fights through his orgasm.

He rests his head on my shoulder, both of us breathing heavily as we come back down. Eventually, Stryker helps me climb off of him and then dresses me before zipping up his pants. The man winks at me again, and god, I swear I could jump in his arms and have him take me up against the wall. But, unfortunately, I have other things to do while I’m here.

My pulse is still racing, my skin flushed and sensitive as I straighten my clothes. "I just need to pop up to my apartment real quick to grab a few personal belongings," I tell him, my voice still a little breathless. "I won't be long. You can wait down here."

Stryker immediately crosses his arms over his chest, his expression hardening into a familiar, immovable wall. "Not a chance in hell. I told you, you aren't leaving my sight."

I sigh, knowing it’s a battle I won't win, and lead him back outside to my apartment door a few feet away. The wooden staircase creaks beneath our combined weight as we head up to my place. Unlocking the door, I push it open, suddenly acutely aware of how this is going to look to him.

Stryker steps into my living space and freezes.

The silence that follows is deafening. I watch as his eyes sweep over the sparse, barren room. He takes in the deflated air mattress pushed into the corner, the makeshift cardboard box I use as a coffee table, and the empty kitchen cabinets with the doors hanging slightly ajar. A muscle in his jaw twitches.

"You're living like this?" he growls, the sound vibrating with a hint of aggression. His protective instincts are fully triggered, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Absolutely not. You can't live here, Soraya."

My back goes rigid as defensiveness rushes through my veins. "It might not look like much to a flippin’ big, bad MC President," I snap, my chin tilting up, "but this is my space. I pay for it. It represents my freedom. It means I survived, Stryker. It's the only space that has ever been truly mine."

Stryker instantly softens. The harsh, aggressive lines of his face melt into pure, tender devotion. He steps forward, closing the distance between us, and gently cups my face in his large, calloused hands.

"I know, sunflower," he murmurs, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. His deep voice vibrates against my crown as he pulls me flush against his solid body. "I know how hard you fought for this. But you don't have to fight alone anymore." He tilts my head up, forcing me to meet his fierce, devoted gaze. "I am your safe space now. I belong to you completely, body, soul, and breath.”